


Mist Bounty

by judah_isaac7



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Mistborn - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Drama, F/M, Fanfiction, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26252434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judah_isaac7/pseuds/judah_isaac7
Summary: Jacen Kalen is soother/brute twinborn bounty hunter living in the ever changing political and emotional landscape of Elendel. He discovers something odd about the bounties he's chasing, and has to figure out how to reconcile his work with his rapidly deteriorating mind.Spin off, OC characters, takes place after Bands of Mourning
Kudos: 1





	Mist Bounty

Jacen sat cross legged in the alleyway across from the pub, back gently pressed up against the uneven stones of the apartment building. The rough cut stone wall stabbed into him causing an increased amount of discomfort. His diminished size and mass while he stored his strength had the drawback of making him a lot more sensitive to pain. This came accompanied with the same familiar mental twinge that paired with his nights hunting prey. It rattled around causing some mild emotional discomfort, but he mostly had the episodes under control now. He sighed as he continued to store his strength into the rings on his fingers.  
“Rusts” Jacen muttered under his breath, “The least they could do is hurry up with their drinks.”   
Sighing, Jacen adjusted his position so his back was no longer pressed up against the wall, in a vain attempt to see what was going on inside the bar his marks were in. Unfortunately the mists were out tonight obscuring his frustratingly unenhanced vision. He squinted and strained even harder, trying to see into the window and grab a glance at how close to being finished his prey was. At this point though the mists had been out for nearly an hour and the swirling, black and white wisps had grown thick enough that most normal people could barely see 5 feet in front of them. Much less through a window that was over 20 feet away. The fact that he could see the window at all was more a testament to how good Jacen’s vision was than anything else.   
“Harmony,” Jacen whispered, “why couldn’t you have given me a tineye as well?” Of course he didn’t actually mean that, Jacen had been more than happy with his ability to soothe people. It afforded many advantages in his line of work, like how most people tended not to notice him while he stored his strength into his pewterminds. Whether it was a result of God’s will or just a result of him becoming so skilled with his two powers, he wasn’t sure anymore. Over the years he found it easier to be stealthy using his powers. While trailing a bounty, being unseen simply became second nature. He just needed brass in his system and his strength to be stored and he automatically created a wave that helped to make himself benign to others eyes until-  
The door to the bar slammed open and three men spilled out, laughing with drinks in hand. One of them had a large scar running up the length of his arm starting from his wrist. It was a common wound allomancers sometimes bore after snapping and experimenting with their powers. Which wouldn’t be too strange if reports of it happening to his mark, hadn’t started coming in two months ago. Even stranger reports of people suddenly becoming allomancers all over the city had been popping up of late, most of them adult criminals like the man before him. Payton “Lightfoot” Krin. Jacen registered his target in his head and a smile crept over his face.   
“There you are,” Jacen murmured, preparing to rise. He checked his brass reserves and then his rings to see how much strength he had stored up. Luckily for him, his brass burned at an incredibly slow rate. He wasn’t sure if that was because of his constant use of it but most of the time he wasn’t that conscious of it. His body simply … responded. But he only had about a minute of the necessary strength for three marks. This meant that he would have to move fast and hit hard.   
“Please don’t” A voice whispered in his ear. His head spun around looking frantically for whoever spoke. The sound of screams echoed through his head giving Jacen pause. He looked but he was alone in the alley. An old familiar chill ran down his spine as he felt his hands shaking. He quickly shut his eyes, shaking off the feeling and reopening them after a beat. Looking down at his hands once again they had stopped shaking and now only one thing was clear to him.  
I should have brought my other metalminds, Jacen thought. But he had rationalized that in order to work on speedily catching his marks he had to be less weighed down. Rani probably would have called him stupid, he smirked at that thought.   
“Pewter is a light metal you rusting idiot.” She would have said. Whatever the actual reasoning Jacen didn’t always know. Sometimes he just picked a reason for doing the things that he did without actively knowing why.   
“Sometimes you just have to go with your gut on these things,” was his most frequent reply to his longtime friend. Whatever his reasons were for being the way that he was, it kept him alive this long and he wasn’t about to question himself now. He had to have confidence in his ways otherwise he’d never have much of a leg to stand on or a self to present to the world.   
He finally stood up, but before he stopped storing to allow his body to return to its default state, something caught his attention as he stepped out of the alleyway. The three men hadn’t moved from their position. Instead, they stood huddled around each other as they talked and whispered something. Immediately Jacen pushed himself up against the wall of the building; he silently prayed that the mist, and his brass wave would conceal him. He hoped against everything that the men would not see him. Lightfoot himself moved closer down the street towards Jacen, taking a few hard steps when he suddenly folded in half and threw up ale and chips all over the paved stone walkway. His buddies each began guffawing loudly as he kept spitting undigested chunks just a few steps away from where Jacen was, much to his dismay.   
“Really…,” Jacen muttered under his breath as the three of them trailed off in the mist, “so much for us becoming a more civilized society.” Jacen gingerly stepped over the mess and began keeping pace at a safe distance, mistvest hanging off his slim build and dueling cane gently slapping against his hip now that he was moving. He liked to keep his vest open while on the job. It afforded him more range of motion, and it was nice to feel the cool blast of mist run over his near bare torso as he...worked.   
Once again the sound of screams accompanied by the familiar cold feeling echoed through his mind and down his spine, but he gritted his teeth and shoved the feelings aside. He passed many boarded up storefronts and factories that once upon a time were places of commerce and productivity. They brought back thoughts of his days working for the corrupt corporate machine of Elendel. He began to shudder as the screams continued and brought back memories of his life as the old Jacen, not Jacen Kalen the bounty hunter. But Jacen The Crusher, the enforcer for the nobility. He began to get lost in his thoughts, remembering the faces of his prey … no not prey … people. His hands began to shake as he felt himself losing control again.  
“NO. You are the one who is in control. You do not belong to them. You are you.” He whispered the mantra to himself, trying to fight back the screams echoing in his brain. He thought of Rani, her words often being a comfort to him during episodes like this.   
“Those days are long gone,” she would say, and she was right. Additionally the new Governor seemed to be cracking down on corruption and illegal use of the metallic arts. These days that was all the incentive he needed. He would not be the weapon for the nobility that once defined him.  
“Oy skinny” A voice called out to him, he snapped his eyes open and to his dismay the 3 men had doubled back and surrounded him one on either side and Lightfoot in front.  
Stupid, he thought to himself, I should know better than to let my guard down around someone like Krin.   
“You ‘een followin me ain’tcha ” Lightfoot said with a sneer. “Nels ‘ere sensed ya burnin brass back there.” He gestured to the man to Jacen’s left and the man smiled a crooked sharp toothed smile. It kind of reminded him of a shark. He almost would have laughed if not for the situation he was in.   
“Now what’s a skinny lil bugger, doin followin the ol Lightfoot round soovin us on our day off. One might think you was makin trouble.” As he said this he stepped right up to Jacen and punctuated the last sentence with a nice puff of vomit smelling beer breath. Jacen struggled not to gag as he assessed the situation. To his left was the seeker that had appeared in his files, thank you Lightfoot for that, to his right was probably the leecher and the man himself right in front of his nose.   
“It seems, gentleman, that you have caught on to my advances and I do sincerely apologize for interrupting your night out. But unfortunately for you there is a good sum of money out there on your head Lightfoot and I am very much inclined to collect, seeing as I’d prefer to eat this month.” Jacen said with a smile. He had assessed and decided that the direct but also diplomatic approach was the right way to go about this. “It would make my life and yours much easier if you just came quietly. These streets have enough mess on them, and I would hate to give the walls a new coat of paint. Mostly since I’m a bit of a shit painter, you see.”   
The leecher and the seeker both looked at Lightfoot, who started chuckling. This caused them to chuckle, until all three of them were laughing around Jacen who was waiting with arms folded in a sort of casual stance. They ceased laughing as soon they saw that Jacen was not deterred by their reckless confidence. Jacen stood upon the damp bricks lips pursed as if he was waiting expectantly.   
“Look I don’t know if I told you, but I was planning on meeting my friend Rani tonight for a drink, so can you just come quickly?” Jacen said with impatience. Lightfoot gritted his teeth and nodded to his two cronies, both reached for dueling canes attached to their belts. Jacen smiled at that. Though, at this point he wasn’t sure who was smiling, him or The Crusher. “Looks like I get to do this the fun way”.   
With both men approaching from either side and Lightfoot smiling a few paces in front of him, he stopped storing, and tapped just a bit of his reserves. As he did, his normal muscular body returned, then began to grow even further. It started from his fingers as they began to fill out with rough calloused skin. Power and muscle spread throughout his hands, up through his arms and shoulders, and down his lower body, filling out his mistvest and the rest of his clothes. Until finally the skinny average sized man who was standing before them just seconds ago was replaced by a six-foot-tall muscular warrior. A man who had had years of strength training and fighting under his belt, but also a man with a cracked psyche. This transformation triggered his brass wave to change the tune of its soothing, suppressing any sense of confidence, anger and determination that would fuel their actions. Allowing the fear, and surprise to build within them, causing them to pause and back off. Which Jacen used to be a show off as he cracked his knuckles and neck before catching his right fist with his left hand producing a loud and very visceral thud.   
“Now,” He said, shifting into a fighting stance. “Shall we begin?” He had promised that he would never become a weapon for the nobility again. As his body bristled with power, the memories and screams in his ear. Something deep within him responded with utter glee as violence was imminent, coloring his thoughts with crimson. He would never be their weapon again, but someone had to hunt down prey, it was only the natural order of things.  
With that the seeker and leecher rushed him, dueling canes drawn, yelling as they both swung with overhead strikes. Jacen caught both canes mid swing, let go of the first, and thrust his hand into the face of the seeker, grabbing it and stunning him, while simultaneously pulling on the cane of the leecher and swinging it and the man off the ground. The leecher, still reeling from the soothing, held on to the cane as Jacen swung him into the opposite wall. The man went down and Jacen was unsure if he was unconscious. His attention now shifted to the seeker, who was trying to reach into his back pocket for what looked like a knife.   
“Ah ah ah,” Jacen said admonishingly, reaching for the knife. Though he was too late as the seeker grabbed it and Jacen brought his right arm up, expecting the searing pain of a cut. Much to his surprise the man hadn’t tried to slash him, but instead … thrown it away? Jacen watched as the knife flew in midair, towards Lightfoot, who was suddenly no longer standing in front of him. Then the knife stopped flying away from him and lurched directly towards Jacen, much to his surprise. In a panicked move he looked behind only to find Lightfoot right there, hand outstretched, with a sly smile on his face. Jacen frantically tried to move out of the way, but Lightfoot’s pull on the knife was too quick as it slammed into his left shoulder, and hot white pain flashed across his left side. He could feel it digging through his body as it came out the back. Blood gushed from both sides as the pain caused him to drop the seeker. Jacen quickly tried to recover and turned towards Lightfoot, but was only met with an empty street and a few nails flying towards him. He barely rolled out of the way and into an adjoining alleyway in time for the nails to clatter against the stone street. The files and notes he’d taken hadn’t truly been conclusive- he’d had his suspicions but didn’t think it was true that Lightfoot had become a Stabilizer. Born a Terrisman, with the ability to store and tap speed within steel, his investigations had implied that he had somehow become a Twinborn...at the age of 42? He smiled to himself as he began to realize this fight was going to get a lot more interesting. He felt something else building inside, it was hot and angry and it wanted to come out. But he shoved it aside.  
Picking himself up off the ground he rushed forward drawing his dueling cane swinging hard aiming for Lightfoot. His strike connected but instead of hitting flesh and bone he heard a clang almost as if he’d hit metal when the cane met with Lightfoot’s side. Suddenly he felt a light tugging on the rings on his fingers. That should not have been possible for any lurcher alive. Jacen dropped the cane and closed his fists to prevent the rings from slipping off, but in the brief moment he took, both the seeker and leecher slammed their dueling canes into Jacen’s abdomen, winding him and knocking him back a few feet. He found he was blocked off and cornered by all three men again. He laughed to himself internally as he struggled with the pain, and began to adjust and shift to Plan B. The gash in his shoulder and what was now several broken ribs was beginning to affect his sanity even more, as his sense of urgency picked up and as the thing inside raged to get out. He began storing again, his body shrinking to that of an average man, and mind quieting, he began to cower as the men approached him.   
“You see that boys” Lightfoot said with a nasty smirk on his face as he walked forward. “Brutes, for all theys power, ain’t nothin when all the juice runs out”.   
“P-please, d-don’t hurt me, I’m new to this and I just I-I thought I could make my mentor proud” Jacen said crawling backwards. Please buy it, he thought to himself, as they approached.   
“You think that just cuz we planned on tits and drinks tonight that we’d be kind to you boy” Lightfoot said kicking Jacen in the stomach, he coughed in response. Good, Jacen thought, I played my cards right with this one. Just a little closer for the other two though. The wound in his shoulder was getting worse as time went on so he had to end this quickly. The thing inside his mind began to tick oddly, almost like the gears of a clock that had something jammed in them, pressure continuously building even while storing. Something that begged for this to not go the way it was going.  
“PLEASE” Jacen pleaded and he hoped that his brass wave was subtle enough this time. Each of Lightfoot’s cronies stepped forward, dueling canes raised to bring them down on Jacen’s head. This oughta be close enough he thought as he finally with a smile, and with a horrible internal shattering...Tapped the rest of his reserves. 

Rani checked the clock on the wall behind the bar. It was two hours past midnight. Jace usually wasn’t this late, but she knew that it happened sometimes. Some job nights he wore himself out so much that he would end up sleeping in the alley next to the constable's office after dropping off his bounty. She’d be sure to check with them in the morning.   
Honestly, she thought to herself, as she downed the rest of her drink and began to get up off her barstool, he could at least send a courier to tell me he was okay. She’d known Jace for most of his teenage and adult life. She usually was the one who’d end up patching up the many various wounds he’d end up with when he got too reckless in a fight or tapped too much strength and ended up tearing his back. They’d been through a lot together, and ever since his sister died… well. That part always felt a little weird to her. She never would dream of leaving his side and the sentiment was always reciprocated. But she didn’t know how she felt about … becoming someone who replaced his sister. The thing was for all intents and purposes they might as well have been siblings. They had done everything together since they’d become friends. But for some reason it bothered her to think of herself in that context. Rani was her own person- she ran several businesses throughout the city. She was, by every definition, a far more successful person than Jace could ever be. He was happy fighting in the streets, and she was happy to tend to him, But all her life she was defined as being paired with Jace. It was always Jace and Rani, never just Rani.   
She sighed, pushing the thoughts aside as she walked through the misty night back to her apartment building. She turned the corner approaching the front doors when she saw a figure sitting just outside. A very large figure. She paused, her breath catching as she examined the person from afar before realizing who it was, and with a cry sprinted the rest of the way to her building. She approached tentatively as she viewed the battered, bleeding figure sitting up against the wall of her building, eyes staring blankly at bloodied shaking fists with what looked like two metal spikes gripped within them. His metal minds covered in blood and what looked to be bits of skin and hair, were scattered around at his feet.  
“I-I did it again” Jace whimpered out “There was nothing left...I-I couldn’t...I didn’t mean to-”   
“Shhh it’s okay” She whispered, sitting down next to him. “You’ll be alright...It wasn’t your fault.” She gently stroked the back of his head as, slowly, the quiet misty night was broken by light sobbing, echoing off of rough cut stone.


End file.
